


Claude von Riegan: Master Schemer & Matchmaker

by lynnaria



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Golden Deer Route, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-09-26 08:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20386375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnaria/pseuds/lynnaria
Summary: Claude helps his classmates with their love troubles.





	1. 1

Claude liked to think of himself as the class therapist, along with the class leader. He prided himself in being approachable, being someone people could entrust their secrets to. He mostly offered advice, or just an ear to listen, though sometimes he took matters into his own hands. After Ignatz told him about a group of people who had ripped up several of his paintings, he slipped a stomach poison in their dinners. Later that evening, he watched from a distance as instead of a slew of insults coming out of their mouths, a slew of something else came out, if you can guess what that means. Ignatz was able to paint in peace, after that. Other than that incident, most of the things people told him were pointless drama, high expectations from parents that caused them anxiety, things like that. 

Today's client was Cyril. Claude was never able to get much out of him, to his dismay. Cyril bore a cold exterior, focusing only on his work. Claude knew he would find a way to break him open eventually. He thought their similar heritage would have some kind of affect, maybe making Cyril a little bit more comfortable, but, no luck. Claude did most of the talking between the two, conversations seemed to come easier to him than the other boy. Something really concerned Claude about Cyril; the younger boy didn't really seem to be close with anyone, other than Rhea. He wasn't sure if being best friends with a religious leader who's well over twice his age was good for Cyril. He really needed friends his own age, friendships were there's not a power imbalance like that. 

"Hey, Cyril, do you get along well with all of the other Golden Deer?" He asks.

Cyril's expression doesn't change. "Yeah, I guess so." 

"Do you have anyone you'd consider a friend?" He says, probing for information.

"Not really." Is all that Cyril says.

Claude frowns. All of his deer are so friendly, how has he not connected with any of them?

"What about Ignatz?" Suggests Claude. Surely he could get along with someone as mild-mannered and meek as that. 

"Mm.." He makes a sound of discomfort. "He's tried talking to me, but all he seems interested in is me being Almyran."

Claude could understand how that would be off-putting. "Raphael?"

"That guy always tries to take over my work, so he gets on my nerves." He responds.

"What about Marianne?" said Claude, running out of options quickly. 

"Marianne is... Scary." Cyril says, brows furrowed.

"Scary? I don't know if I'd use that word to describe her." 

"I guess I mean, like... Creepy? There's something weird about her." He describes.

Claude lets out a murmur of agreement. Well, he's out of ideas. Hilda would normally be quick to make friends, but as someone of House Goneril... Claude wanted to keep a distance between the two. Lorenz was far too arrogant to wanna associate with someone like Cyril, and Leonie could potentially be too headstrong.

"Lysithea?" he offered, voice uncertain.

"Hmm, she's tried to help me with my work once, too. I told her she shouldn't bother with doing work like me, since we're in two different leagues. That's about all I've said to her." Cyril said.

"Then she freaked out and told you she's not a kid and could do whatever you could, right?" Claude surmises.

The younger boy shakes his head. "Nah, she just kinda accepted it and moved on." 

Claude raises his eyebrows. "_Our_ Lysithea, not going haywire when you tell her she can't do something? That doesn't seem in character for her." 

He just shrugs. "She seemed to take it fine." 

Hmm, interesting, Claude thinks. Lysithea was one of the last people he considered as a candidate, she was very high strung and downright rude at times. Really, he thought, she is kind of similar to Cyril in a way. They both hate receiving help from others, are generally pretty distant, plus, they're the closest in age. I can make this work, Claude decides.

* * *

Lysithea is studying in the library, like normal. Her face is buried in a book, a parchment scroll is next to her, presumably so she can take notes. Claude walks up from behind her, placing a hand on the corner of the table. 

She lets out a dramatic sigh. "What do you want, Claude?"

"What, I can't just come say hello to my house's most diligent student?" He pouts.

She rolls her eyes at him wordlessly. He pulls out a chair, taking a seat in it. 

"Whatcha reading?" He asks.

"A book about strategy techniques in the front lines." She doesn't look up from the book as she answers.

"Oh! That seems... Well, frankly, it seems rather boring to me. I don't like to think about studying in my free time, personally." 

"That's definitely apparent." She remarks.

Claude shrugs off the insult, he was pretty much immune to those now. 

"So, I got a bit of intel from one of the higher-ups, and it seems like the professor is gonna make us do a project in groups of two. What are your thoughts on that?" None of it is true, he just wants to test his theory.

"I'm not being your partner." Says Lysithea.

"Yeesh, let me ask before you turn me down, at least." Claude frowns. "Who would you choose to be your partner, then?" 

Her eyebrows furrow. "Well... I'm not sure. Flayn seems to be knowledgeable, but I worry that neither of us is experienced with weaponry, only magic."

"What about Cyril? I hear he's pretty good with an axe." He offers.

"As long as he would do his part in the project, I don't really care." She said, cold as usual. Dang, these two were tough to crack. Oh well, he supposed this was something he would have to let simmer before intervening. 

* * *

Claude feels bad for spying, but his curiosity won't let him not listen in on his two classmates in the dining hall. The door was pretty thick, so he only heard bits of the conversation, but from what he could gather, Cyril didn't know how to read, and Lysithea was helping him read some kind of list. He found himself angry at the fact no one had taught Cyril to read until this point, he'd been in the church for years now, how could anyone not notice? He at least found solace in the fact that he trusted Lysithea with that secret, and felt weirdly proud that the girl didn't judge him, only offering help if he wanted it. She sounded really happy that she was of use to him, even if it was something a simple as reading a shopping list. 

Claude hurriedly stood up straight, trying to act natural as he heard foot steps approach him. It was Cyril who came through the door, wearing a large smile on his face, something Claude only thinks he's seen once of twice since meeting the boy. 

The smile immediately fades as he sees the house leader. "Oh, Claude." He states.

"Oh, me." He imitates, " Try to at least _pretend_ that you're happy to see me, okay?" 

"Ah, sorry." The younger boy apologizes. "I have some stuff I need to go buy, so I'm kind of in a hurry." 

"Don't let me stop you, then." He ushers him to go. Cyril nods, heading off towards the market. 

Claude watches him leave, arms crossed. The tone that Cyril used with him versus the one he used with Lysithea was very noticeably different. He thought about how Lysithea talked to Cyril, too. That hint of snarkiness was still there, but it was much more toned down compared to when she spoke with Claude. Cyril seemed to smile more around her, too. Maybe there was a bit more than a friendship going on here, he thinks.


	2. 2

This was a risky plan, but if everything went smooth, it should work. Claude tested his theory about a week ago; he left a note with a monk, asking Cyril to organize the books in the Golden Deer classroom in a certain way. Just as expected, Claude found the boy getting help from Lysithea when he passed by the officers academy. He deduced from this that she was still the sole person who knew of his illiteracy. He could keep sending notes like this, but he worried that they would catch on if he was the one who kept asking for favors. 

So, he hired a girl to pretend to send a note for him. This one of the many layers to the plan, however. He would make the girl give the note to the Professor, who would, in turn, hand off the note to Cyril. This would mask his involvement even further, so he really didn't have any tracks left to cover up. As long as he tried to write differently, this would probably work.

He felt a bit guilty for writing a love letter for someone as a scheme, it seemed a little cruel, but his intentions were pure. He tried to write it to be vague enough to be someone Cyril didn't know well, but in depth enough to fluster Lysithea, if she were to read it. He suspected that someone as young at heart as her would have difficulty reading this kind of thing. She was never upfront with her gratitude of others, so seeing something like this would absolutely floor her. He had skimmed through a fair number of scandalous romance novels belonging to his mother as a child, so he was pretty confident in it. He did one last pass through of the writing, dotting his i's with hearts. Girls did that, right? That's what Hilda always did, anyway. He folded the paper into an envelope, closing it with an inconspicuous looking wax seal. 

* * *

Cyril flipped the envelope back and forth, observing it. The Professor said some girl had left it for him. He suspected the usual list of chores, but this looked far too fancy to be something like that. He doubted he would be able to decipher whatever was on it, so there was no use in opening it. He just held onto it, waiting for an opportunity to ask Lysithea to read it to him.

That opportunity presented itself sooner than he expected, as he found the girl seated in the reception hall. She had a textbook open, probably studying for class. He sat next to her on the bench, waiting for her to notice his presence.

She brought her eyes up to his. "Hey, Cyril, do you need something?" There's a trace of a smile on her face. 

"Yeah, actually. The professor said some girl left me this letter, and you know me, I, uh, need some help with it." He looked behind his shoulder, seeing if anyone was in earshot. No one seemed to be paying attention to them. Good.

"Okay, let's see it, then." Her elbow was propped on the table, hand under her chin. 

The wax made a satisfying _pop_ noise when it released from the paper. He handed off the parchment to Lysithea, who put on a face of concentration as she unfolded it. He put his hands in his lap, waiting for her to begin reading. She cleared her throat before starting. 

"Dear, Cyril," She read, "It has taken me awhile to muster up my courage to write this, so I hope I am able to get my point across well. We don't really talk, but I've been observing you from afar for awhile now. The way you take your work head on, never complaining, even when there's a downpour or you clearly feel sick, you keep your chin up and continue marching forward." 

Cyril blinks, surprised that someone would take the time to praise him like this. He was just doing his job, he didn't really see how what he was doing was so great. 

"Overtime, I have found myself..." She pauses, squinting at the words. "I have found myself feeling something more than platonic for you." 

"Platonic? What's that?" He asks earnestly.

"Platonic means friendship, So what I'm saying- What the writer is saying, I mean, is that they like you more than a friend." She explains.

Cyril nods. She continues to read.

"I love your dark curly hair, it always looks messy and yet well kept at the same time. I hope that I can brush it for you some day." Lysithea was reading slower, in attempt to not stumble over her words. "My absolute favorite part of you is your eyes; I've never seen a pair with a dark amber color like yours, but I can't pull mine away whenever I see you." 

Cyril was getting increasingly puzzled by the letter. Lysithea seemed to have more difficulty getting her words out as she went along.

"Even though your hands are so small, they're calloused and rough, I have to stop myself from- from trying to take your hands in my own whenever I get near you." Lysithea's previously pink face was now turning into a shade of red. "I dream of a day when I can do that with no worries or protests from you. A day where can take me into your arms and-"

"Oh my gosh, Lysithea-!" A voice from behind made both of them jump. Hilda had her hands clasped against her chest, a large grin on her face.

"I had no idea you had a crush, this is so cute!" She cried.

Lysithea was even redder now, border-lining on purple. 

"This- This isn't- I'm just reading-" She sputtered, unable to speak in coherent sentences.

"Aw, it's okay, Lys. I'll just pretend I didn't hear anything, alright?" The pink hair girl said, leaving with a wink, before Lysithea could protest. 

The younger girl let out a sound of rage, gritting her teeth and slamming a fist on the table.

"Um, Lysithea, I'm really, really confused." He said.

"Are you that stupid?! It's a love letter, dummy!" She spat, volume louder than it probably should have been.

Cyril just blinked, looking at his classmate, who was now causing the paper to crumple and tear under her grip.

A few moments passed, before Lysithea let out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing.

"I'm so mad." She said, deadpan.

"Does Hilda think you wrote that thing for me?" He asked, a bit afraid that the answer would make Lysithea explode again.

"Probably. Ugh!" She clenched her jaw. "What awful timing. I hope she doesn't tell anyone." 

"Do we know who actually sent this thing?" He asks again.

"No, it's signed with 'Love, Anonymous.' So who knows who it could be." said Lysithea.

Cyril's brows furrow. Why would someone go through the trouble of making and sending a letter with no name? How was he supposed to respond? And he ended up embarrassing Lysithea all for nothing.

"I'm sorry, Lysithea." He says.

"Ugh, it's my fault, I shouldn't have read it out loud somewhere as busy as this." Lysithea shakes her head. 

He sighs. "It's probably some kinda joke anyways, I can't see someone seriously thinking stuff like that about me." 

Lysithea turns to him and blinks. She looks confused.

"Why would you say something like that?" She asked. 

"Well, it's just that, no one really pays any attention to me, y'know? I'm pretty used to being treated like I'm not even in the room." He explains.

Her expression turns angry, but softens after a few seconds.

"Well, screw those people. I think you're- I mean, I think someone out there sees you like this. I always notice you when you're in the room, at least." Lysithea says.

Cyril shrugs, "You don't have to try and make me feel better. I know that most people here look down on me."

She looks mad again. "I'm not saying it just to make you feel better! I'm not one for giving people empty promises or sugar coated words, you know?"

He opens his mouth to respond, closing when he can't find the right words to say. Lysithea glares at him for a few minutes, waiting to rebut any arguments he may have. 

The silence is broken by a soft voice.

"U-um, Lysithea, you- um, you have kitchen duty with me today, remember?" They both look up to find Marianne, hands clutching her sleeves nervously.

"Oh! Right, I forgot." Lysithea remarks. She turns to Cyril. "Don't forget what I said, I'll be mad if you start doubting yourself again." 

Cyril nods in reply, as the young girl drags Marianne by the wrist across the hall. As he watches her leave, he takes one last look at the letter. He picks it up and rips it into quarters, wadding it up and tossing it in the nearest waste bin.

**Author's Note:**

> claude is so fun to write......i might write more just cause this is such a fun concept to me!!


End file.
